


Con Lentitud Poderosa

by SteveTrevorsStarship



Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: :) with powerful slowness, M/M, Slow Burn, wow!! im a clown- the book
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteveTrevorsStarship/pseuds/SteveTrevorsStarship
Summary: The first man that comes through is shot in the head, the second in the shoulder. The third is a friendly, defined by his dark skin and air of ease. James smiles at Neil as he walks closer.“We live in a twilight world, and there are no friends at dusk,” he says. “Remember that.”
Relationships: Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	1. Nowhere to Go

**Author's Note:**

> wow so I have to rewatch tenet before I make any more of this fic because like half of it was lost to me due to shitty audio and also the movie theatre overlapping the film for a good 15 minutes of the movie. If ya'll understand something that happened in that movie and want to correct me, feel free. I'm uneducated and scared of math and science. Also brit-pick if you want, I'm woefully American.
> 
> All titles will come from songs. "...con lentitud poderosa" god I hope I'm spelling that right is by Chris Christodoulou, whose name may be ridiculous but whose music is impeccable. 
> 
> "Nowhere to Go" is a badass song by Arch Leaves and Randy Coleman. I prefer the instrumental version, but really, that one's up to you.

“The weapon. What is it?” He asks the question like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“It’s the future of mankind,” the scientist says, a hopeful grin bright on his face. “This is going to end wars, save lives–”

“Any weapon with the power you speak of has the ability to  _ end _ mankind as well, doesn’t it?”

“Well… yes, I suppose, but that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” The scientist gestures to the man, his excitement burning through his nerves and finding their release in the violent shaking of his hands. “You take this weapon and the government takes care of it, right? This way they’ll keep it out of the hands of criminals?”

The man’s smile is tragic. “The government would never be able to pull off an operation this delicate. I’m part of an independent organization.”

The scientists frowns and goes to shut the briefcase with the weapon. “You’re not the government representative,” he says. 

“No,” the man responds. “I’m Tenet. Would you like a job?” 

. . .

In the end, it only takes ten years for a scientist to discover how to use entropy and inversion. 

Tenet is, by this point, an organization that lies both dormant and active in every way possible. They are in the past, present, future, and everything in between. They control situations that haven’t happened yet and situations that happened far too long ago. Agents die in front of The Protagonist’s eyes but then are alive the next day, existing on two different planes at once. 

No adjectives pertain to Tenet, really, because time is non-linear and everything it was it could be and everything it could be already was. So the simple way to say it is this: Tenet  _ is.  _

It takes five more years for the British Government to find out about Entropy. One more for other governments to find out. Two more after that to weaponize it. 

Tenet has already infiltrated every government imaginable. Sleeper Agents. Most don’t know why they’re doing what they’re doing, but they know it’s for the best. Gain their trust, establish connections, control the Entropy. Governments only have a limited understanding and access to it. Tenet is the reason. They take the scientists who are brilliant enough to decode Entropy and put them at the helm. Tenet is a center of interlineal espionage first, international espionage second, and research third. 

If there is a way to reverse the devastation a plutonium-entropy bomb could wreck on planet Earth, Tenet will be the ones to know first. 

(Though it’s unlikely it will ever happen. If Tenet hasn’t heard about it yet, from the future or otherwise, they most likely never will.) 

. . .

The Protagonist meets Neil in Hong Kong. 

It’s been four years since what the Protagonist likes to call  _ that time things were FUBAR in Russia.  _

Neil is a disgraced physicist turned MI6 Agent, which the Protagonist isn’t even surprised about. Some scientists slip through the cracks between Tenet’s fingers, go public about whatever bit of research they’ve found. They’re very quickly dismissed as insane or accused of fabrication in their research. Tenet often are the ones that make the evidence against them believable, then turn around and find them jobs better suited to Tenet’s needs. No need to ruin their lives  _ completely. _

Neil is nursing a drink and sweet-talking the Chinese Ambassador’s wife. The Protagonist resists the urge to laugh at this fact; he  _ would  _ be the one attempting to preserve Hong Kong’s newfound no-strings-attached independence. He sees Neil slip a keycard from the woman when he presses a hand to her waist and is vaguely impressed with his sleight of hand. 

The action goes unnoticed by the wife and by the end of the short conversation she has drinks and men aplenty to keep her company while he goes and bugs the Ambassador’s room. The Protagonist hides his smirk in his Diet Coke when Neil struts back into the bar and dismisses the wife with nothing more than a kiss to the forehead. She’s too shit-faced to care and simply waves a hand to him as a goodbye.

He nearly laughs when Neil sits next to him at the bar and takes the drink from his hand, gulping some of it back. 

“That’s disgusting,” he says as he hands the drink back. “Is that Diet Coke or shit-colored tonic water?”

This time, the Protagonist actually does laugh. “I thought you liked tonic water.”

“Where did you get that impression from?” Neil asks, flagging down the bartender and asking politely for a Vodka. The Protagonist hums noncommittally as he drinks some of his Coke and Neil eyes him warily. “Who are you?” 

The Protagonist sends him a small smile and says, “James Clerk.” Neil’s eyebrow shoots up. He recognizes the name; of course he does. 

“Who are you?” Neil asks again, his voice dropping an octave and his eyes narrowing. 

James fishes a business card out of his pocket and slides it over to him. “You were a physicist, once,” he says, “you’ll know it when you see it. Call me when you do.”

Neil looks down at the card. It has nothing but the name  _ Tenet  _ and the number to a burner phone. 

. . .

Two months later, he sees it. 

It’s not time travel, he realizes. It was never time travel, just like he thought, it was full-blown  _ entropy _ and this– These bullet holes, these men getting ready to fire inverted bullets at him– 

This is where Neil remembers James Clerk Maxwell. 

He runs, hides, and dials the number. He says one word and the woman on the other end asks, “Red room, blue room. What closed the door?”

“Maxwell’s demon and apparently a bloody turnstile. There’s not much time.”

“You must be new to this, Neil. Time isn’t the issue.” The dial tone that follows is foreboding and Neil really wishes they had found a not-creepy way to end phone calls, it’s especially irritating in his line of work. 

A whole new round of bullets fire in the hallway to his left and Neil readies his gun.

The first man that comes through is shot in the head, the second in the shoulder. The third is a friendly, defined by his dark skin and air of ease. James smiles at Neil as he walks closer. 

“We live in a twilight world, and there are no friends at dusk,” he says. “Remember that.” 


	2. WINDMILLS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “MI6 wishes they had our R&D.” 
> 
> “If only MI6 knew about your R&D.”
> 
> The Protagonist gives him a fond smile, sharpened by the years of outwitting governments and terrorists alike. “You’re learning quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WINDMILLS. Ludwig. I'm not above using the film's soundtrack, no. If it gets confusing pls tell me/bear (bare? fuck it's been too long) with me until the end of the fic when shit gets explained.

“Who came up with The Protagonist, anyway?” Neil asks him once he’s learned everything there is to learn about Tenet and their mission. “It’s pretentious.” 

He laughs at Neil, remembers the same man with the tired smile who was the hero in the end. “An old lady.”

“Why do you keep using it?”

“For my work contacts. And as a reminder.”

“I have a feeling it’s not going to be the reminder I think it is,” Neil says.

“No,” the Protagonist responds, “it isn’t.” 

. . .

“This where we put all those scientists we steal away from the government,” The Protagonist says, gesturing to a hallway. “Where you would have ended up, had you not joined MI6.” 

“Is this your Q-Branch?” Neil teases as he eyes the closed doors and muffled explosions coming from inside. 

“MI6 wishes they had our R&D.” 

“If only MI6  _ knew  _ about your R&D.”

The Protagonist gives him a fond smile, sharpened by the years of outwitting governments and terrorists alike. “You’re learning quickly.”

“One must.”

They round the corner and start toward a different hallway. This time, The Protagonist swipes his keycard and holds the door open for Neil. “Where are we going?” he asks as he steps in the hallway. 

“Sparring.” The Protagonist follows, guiding Neil to a door on the right. 

The room Neil enters isn’t especially different from any other sparring room he’d ever been in. The only real difference is the Oxygen canisters attached to masks hanging up in the side of the room and the Red-Room Blue-Room split down the middle. 

“Am I about to get my ass kicked while inverted?” Neil asks. 

The Protagonist smiles, shakes his head. “Just regular sparring for now.” 

“ _ For now, _ ” Neil points out. He takes off his suit jacket and unbuttons the top of his dress shirt. He takes careful note of the way The Protagonist’s eyes linger at the base of his throat but says nothing. 

When his partner’s done readying himself and they’ve both pulled up their sleeves, Neil launches his attack first. He feints a punch to the Protagonist’s gut but instead sidesteps him to kick his knees out from under him. 

It doesn’t work.

Every move Neil makes, every dodge, every sidestep,  _ everything _ is matched with almost instantaneous reaction time and impeccable responses. It’s like the Protagonist has fought this fight a million times before, like he knows everything that’s going to happen. 

When Neil’s finally defended himself to his last straw and The Protagonist has him with his back to the ground and is straddling his hips, caging him in, the man leans down to whisper in his ear. “You fight too predictably,” he says. “Anybody could be somebody that’s already fought you and you don’t know it. Think outside the box. Be unpredictable.” 

Neil raises his eyebrow. “Fight like a wounded animal?”

“No,” The Protagonist says, “fight like a  _ pissed  _ animal.” 

So they get back up and start again. He does as The Protagonist says and fights in a new way, more like a street kid than an MI6 Agent. He starts using tricks his teachers taught him but he never used, tricks he taught himself but never used. 

The Protagonist has lost part of his edge in this battle and that is his omniscience. He’s never seen this fighting style from Neil before, not even when they were in that shipping container for a week with nothing better to do than spar. But he still has the upper-hand. Neil’s actions are partly unpredictable but still easy to learn and deflect in a matter of seconds. The Protagonist pins Neil against the wall this time, whipping a gun from an ankle holster and shoving it against the younger man’s head. “Better,” he says, “but not good enough.” 

Neil glares wearily at the gun leveled at his head. “Have you fought me before?” 

“You should have guessed that by now.”

“Stop being mysterious. It’s obnoxious. Have you met me before or not?” 

“Those are two different questions,” The Protagonist says, digging the gun a little deeper into Neil’s temple. “Pay attention.”

“You’re obnoxious,” The new recruit retorts, but he wastes no time in surging toward the Protagonist, all rapid movement, and wrapping his arms around his neck. 

The kiss is unexpected. The Protagonist supposes that’s the point, but can’t really bring himself to care when Neil’s lips are moving against his, moist and soft– 

He can’t even care when Neil slides his body against his, flipping their positions on the wall and taking the gun from him. He presses the barrel to the Protagonist’s temple and breaks off the kiss, whispering into the space between them. “You don’t kiss me like you’ve done it before. Unpredictable enough for you?”

“Look down,” The Protagonist whispers back, a smirk playing on his face. 

Neil’s gun, which  _ used  _ to be in his coat pocket, is now pressed against his stomach. Neil raises his eyebrow. “When did you get that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“Funny.”

. . .

Neil doesn’t realize it until he walks into The Protagonist’s office. 

“You’re the boss around here,” he says, looking around at the bulletproof glass walls and piles of paperwork labeled  _ PRO’s eyes only.  _ The man doesn’t respond, only continues sifting through the papers on his desk. “Why are you training a new recruit if you’re the boss?”

“I’m not training you,” he says, “I was showing you around.”

“Still,” Neil insists, “you shouldn’t have time to be showing me around.”

Neil nearly jumps out of his skin when a strong feminine voice speaks from behind him. “As I said on the phone, Neil, time isn’t the problem.” He turns to see a short young woman with a strong face and intelligent dark eyes. She merely smiles at Neil before returning to typing something on her computer. 

“Was she in here before?” 

“Yes. Were you blinded by my rapier wit and undeniable charm?” 

“You really are pretentious, aren’t you? The name fits you well.”

“Harsh,” he says before gesturing to the woman. “My secretary’s name is Monica Lewinsky.”

“Absolutely not," she says, not bothering to look up from her work. "I would sooner die of an inverted bullet than have sex with you. And she wasn’t Clinton’s secretary.”

“Miss Moneypenny, then.”

“Then you would be just as pretentious as Neil suggests. Neil, dear, give him a good kick in the balls for me, would you?”

“If only he would give me an opening,” Neil grumbles good-naturedly, watching the by-play.

The Protagonist sighs before continuing, “I would deserve it for the Monica Lewinsky comment, she’s a lovely woman and would hate to be compared to you. You should be proud I called you Miss Moneypenny, though.” 

“Miss Moneypenny shot James Bond off a moving train. Care for me to do the same to you?”

“Only if it’s inverted and I get to do a backflip,” The Protagonist retorts. “Where’s that paper I needed him to sign–?” Miss Moneypenny holds out a stack of papers and raises an immaculately groomed eyebrow. 

“Clean your desk or I burn it.”

“Burn it and you’re buying me a new one,” he responds, standing up to take the papers and giving them a precursory glance. “Sit, Neil. We’ve got some paperwork to do.” 

Neil sits but raises his eyebrow. “You never answered my question. Why?”

“Because you’re high priority,” he says noncommittally. 

“Because?”

“Because you’re a brilliant physicist  _ and  _ can kick ass.”

Neil doesn’t believe him but he lets the Protagonist go on with the paperwork anyway. It’s starting to seem like any real questions he has will only be answered with time and experience. 

And The Protagonist can only watch him because this is Neil, young and inexperienced and so far from the man he once knew. He can only wonder if his brain is full of _ Casablanca _ quotes and if he’s able to pull off the mysterious disposition as well as he used to be able to– will be able to. He has so many questions and yet too many answers that he won’t be able to give Neil until it’s the end.

Neil is 26 years old, and this is his beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .tsol ydaerla s'eh tahw nruom ot mih rof sraey 41 sekat tI .gnidne nigeb ot dlrow eht rof sraey neetruof sekat tI


	3. Breadcrumbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know your name either.”
> 
> “Really?”
> 
> “Does it make you feel better?” Neil levels a long look at him and watches as the young man attempts to temper his grin. “You’re going to have to get used to it.” 
> 
> “Doesn’t it seem a tad overdramatic?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... I need to continue this and I know where its going, sort of, I just had a whole host of problems and so now you get this super short chapter and its kinda terrible, I'm sorry, but I'm really dedicated to finishing this fic even if it takes a while so... stay tuned. Much love and I hope everybody is doing alright!

“Welcome to your first day on the job,” a young man says as he hands Neil a keycard and gun. “You’re missing and presumed dead to MI6, don’t try to contact anybody you used to know. I hope you didn’t have any family or friends.”

Neil resists the urge to pause in response to the comment. It does him no good to think about it now and– if he’s honest– he doesn’t regret leaving anybody behind. 

“Sorry,” the man says suddenly, “that was blunt. Sorry. We do need to hurry, though.” He gives Neil an apologetic smile before turning his brown eyes forward again and leading Neil to a different section of the building. 

“Would you be able to tell me your name?” Neil asks hopefully because so far even his boss’  _ secretary  _ hasn’t bothered to give him her name. 

“No.”

Neil snorts. “Right.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know your name either.”

“Really?”

“Does it make you feel better?” Neil levels a long look at him and watches as the young man attempts to temper his grin. “You’re going to have to get used to it.” 

“Doesn’t it seem a tad overdramatic?”

“Not really. Don’t want to screw with too many paradoxes, now, do we? Besides, you can call me M if it really bothers you that much.”

“Another James Bond themed name?” Neil asks before he realizes–  _ paradoxes.  _ “Are you from the future?” 

This time, the other man doesn’t bother to hold back his grin as he steps forward and opens a door for him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, that would be why I’m  _ asking _ ,” Neil snaps back before entering the familiar-looking room. 

Across from him is a view through a window of both the red and blue rooms.  _ James Clerk Maxwell,  _ Neil thinks. This organization– Tenet– they don’t really pass up any opportunity to be cryptic, do they?

“Red team should be in here soon,” the young man says, pointing at the red room. 

“We’re just watching today?” Neil guesses, looking through the glass at the two rooms. Max hums a lazy confirmation. 

“You have to normalize people sparring in reverse somehow.”

“Do you?” Neil asks under his breath. Max laughs. 

“You get used to it,” he teases, grinning. “Try not to mourn the loss of your sanity for too long.”

. . .

Neil doesn’t end up caring too much about whatever semblance of sanity he has left. The Inversion sparring was odd, to say the least, but once he got into the ebb and flow of it, it made sense. 

Yes, it’s potentially dangerous and insanely mind-blowing– but it’s also  _ cool as hell.  _ Neil would give anything to shove his theories about entropy back in his peers’ faces, even if he does understand the necessity of keeping it quiet. 

“Having fun yet?” M says once the sparring teams have left. Neil doesn’t respond, just raises an unamused eyebrow. M laughs shortly and motions for him to follow. “C’mon, there’s more to see.”

And he’s right– Tenet’s Headquarters consists of so many more departments that Neil hadn’t even considered for the organization. Sure, there’s an Intelligence branch, but then there’s also entire departments for things like  _ Timeline Organization _ that have people like Jadyn, who introduce themselves with bright smiles and are armed to the teeth with knowledge of the past, present, and future. 

It’s the most terrifying, exhilarating experience of his life. 

“Sometimes we miss pieces of the puzzle,” Jadyn had said, taking note of something that happened somewhere between a year ago and yesterday. “That’s when it becomes my job. I write it all down so we don’t miss anything, then figure out what happens when.” 

Neil could only imagine what they did with that information. Prevent wars?  _ Start  _ wars? 

He doesn’t  _ know _ , and it’s baffling to think about– these people, people like Jadyn and the Protagonist, hold the power to the world in their hands. He wonders at what point that power begins to turn sour, at what point it becomes greed. He wonders when he’ll need to shoot his boss in the face, which would be a concerning thought, except he was MI6 for years. 

But for some  _ stupid  _ reason Neil trusts the man. He trusts him to lead this organization safely and effectively. He feels like he knows him, which is just plain  _ weird  _ coming from somebody that has trusted a grand total of two times in his life. 

Maybe it’s something in the way he looks at Neil. Maybe it’s the handsome smirk, or the way his suits fit him perfectly but he still wears them in a way that makes it blatantly obvious he’d never owned anything other than Brooks Brothers before he was thirty. 

And what’s more– why is Neil being told any of this? Tenet seems like an organization that’s particularly up-front with new recruits. It probably wouldn’t last very long if they were. 

So why are they telling Neil all this?

. . .

“Do you know when it happens yet?” Money asks, looking over the Edinburgh skyline with her boss. 

“You mean when I inevitably get him killed?” The Protagonist responds. His arms are clasped behind his back and his mouth is set in a frown.

“No,” she says, “I mean when he sacrifices himself to save the world.”

He pauses for a moment then sighs. “I don’t know everything. Whatever happens next happens.”

“Okay,” she says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Then you have time.”

He scowls. “I don’t know how much.” 

“Nobody does,” his secretary says, “you just have to make peace with knowing how it happens.” 

The Protagonist takes a deep breath and just  _ thinks.  _ He’s not sure it would be better if he knew Neil had to go back in two years or two days. And in the end, Money is right– people die all the time. And Neil is just another person, isn’t he? 

**Author's Note:**

> —dedne ev'ew erehw si siht ,erehw si siht ,erehw si siht woN .dednepxe dna nelots saw ,derahs ew tnemom a ,erehw si sihT .dedneb erew selur ym lla erehw ,derab saw luos ym ,erehw si sihT .dedneirfeb saw I erehw ,erac ot nageb I ,erehw si sihT
> 
> Ask for requests on [cheesesonlyaspiration](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cheesesonlyaspiration) , scream with me abt shit on [thischeesenugget](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thischeesenugget)


End file.
